


The Supernatural Hero Special

by Some_Impossible_Fairytale



Category: Supernatural, Ten Inch Hero, crossover - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:35:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_Impossible_Fairytale/pseuds/Some_Impossible_Fairytale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if there was another reason why Boaz Priestly took so long to tell Tish his name? What if the pause wasn't to do with embarrassment between friends but a choice to be made. A lie told. And the change of look meant that Dean Winchester's past might catch up with his life as Priestly and his future with Tish sooner than he thought?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Supernatural Hero Special

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! So this kinda happened and I basically started writing. Which is rare for me. Uber rare. This is the first chapter but be warned I don't really have any idea where this is going. But there will be fluff.

Tish Madison rolled over and sleepily opened her eyes, warm and comfortable, filled with the contentment that came from the place between sleeping and waking. Of course the strong arm that loosely encircled her waist and the firm chest, which only seconds before had been pressed deliciously against her back might have something to do with it. It had been eight months since that fateful day when a clean, shaven, Banana Republic clad Priestly had come into the Grill to ask her out and Tish had never looked back. It turned out that Priestly was everything she'd ever been afraid to let herself want, her very own tattooed Prince Charming. She drank in his sleeping face, admiring the way his features were bathed by the rays of sunlight coming through their bedroom window. About a month ago, they'd sold their apartments and bought a loft together, close to the beach. It was all bay windows and light pine floors and she loved it. Particularly the little christening they had given it, the night after the house warming party when everyone, including little Julia had gone home for the night. Tish shuddered happily in remembrance, eyes trailing down to Priestly's lips and how he'd kissed what seemed to be every inch of her last night. When it came to the bedroom – there was no comparison between Priestly and the guys she used to bring home like Tad. No wonder she'd rarely heard Priestly complain about never getting any, the guy was a _God_ in the bedroom. Either he was naturally gifted or he'd had a lot of practise. “But you're mine now” she whispered, the words ghosting over his full, plush lips, like a caress.

 

Her fingertips actually did move, up his ribs, but only just, she knew how ticklish he was and she had no intention of waking him just yet, to graze his pectorals as she lazily traced her favourite of Priestly's tattoos. It was the outline of a black star encircled by a sun – _a pentagram, a powerful protective symbol –_ he'd told her smilingly. When Tish had mentioned her favouritism for that particular ink and pondered getting her own, Priestly had encouraged her, saying it could be a couples thing between the two of them, but Tish had yet to make up her mind both about the place and whether or not she truly wanted it. Not that Tish was paying all that much attention at the time, she was too busy gaping at the firm pectorals, the cutting hipbones and those _abs,_ that had just been revealed from under her boyfriend's – there was no getting away from it, Tish Madison was in a loving, long term relationship – plain black t-shirt, in her bedroom, when Priestly was so close and yet so far from the actual bed, where, y'know, she could explore, touch and kiss, lick, bite.

 

“Tickles” came a throaty voice from above her, Boaz Priestly, voice gruff with sleep, eyes just fluttering open, was looking down at her happily. “Morning, beautiful” he winked, stretching his arms past her waist, as he flexed the stiffness from his muscles, then smoothly gathering her closer. Tish knew she was hot, but Priestly had always, even before they got together, made her feel beautiful and he'd taken to calling her that. She'd take that over Platisha any day of the week. “Tickles does it?” she asked playfully, all the while her fingertips brushing traitorously lower, down to his ribs “What about -”

Before she could even finish her sentence, Priestly had flipped them so she was pressed into the mattress and his arms were either side of, braced to keep his weight off her, whilst allowing for the tantalising touch of their chests together. “What about what, _Platisha_?” he grinned wickedly.

Once Tish had gotten her breath back, seriously, you could never take this guy by surprise and in all honestly his lightening fast reflexes scared the crap out of her, she scowled up at him a little. However, it faded when she saw the playful spark illuminating his deep green eyes in all their glory. Tish had always liked Priestly's eyes but now, unencumbered by the too thick black eyeliner, she loved them, just like she loved the absence of the scratchy little fuzzy goatee – though she did have a thing for a fully bearded Priestly, oddly enough.

“How do you do that?” she muttered half heartedly, wrapping her legs around his waist

“Baby, it'll be a cold day in hell when someone takes _me_ by surprise” he grinned, reaching to disentangle her legs and pull away. “Coffee?”

Tish frowned at his retreating back “Yeah, please” she called after him, wondering what was wrong. The first thing to know about Priestly was that he was a gentleman, after their first date, he'd never even tried anything, refusing her offer of coffee and just kissing her cheek – Tish was having no truck with that and had only been happy when they'd made out good and proper against her door – saying he'd see her tommorrow. Tish had appreciated that, the fact that someone thought she was worth dating, flowers and waiting for, after a long string of one night stands. They'd made it past the third and fifth dates and still nothing. Priestly, when she'd asked, had looked at her for a long time before softly replying “When you're ready babe and not before. I'm not going anywhere and I'm happy to wait. I'm not expecting anything. When you're ready, really ready” and then he'd kissed her, slow and deep because “I want to. _Believe me_ , I want to. But I've waited a year and a half, I can wait a bit longer”. Trucker, Zo, Piper and Jen when she'd told them the next day – Priestly had had the day off, had all rolled her eyes and said that you could see Priestly was attracted to – Piper and Jen said attracted, Zo and Trucker said in love with – Tish from space. The second thing was that once they'd gotten together, Priestly had never refused morning sex, or indeed at all. _Ever._

 

But the thing is, that was not the first or second thing Tish needed to know about Boaz Priestly. Because the thing is, his name _isn't_ Priestly. It's Dean. Dean Winchester -yes, like the rifle - the Righteous Man, the Michael Sword. And today is May 2nd. Sammy's birthday. And another thing, not like countless other times in the Winchesters life, both siblings were currently alive and well. As far as Dean knew, he thought, bitterly as he made the coffee and dug the lox and cream cheese from the fridge, pulling the bagels from the bread bin. But Dean hadn't seen Sam for almost three years now. Not since the whole thing with the Leviathans. Sam losing his soul, Cas playing God, letting the leviathans loose and then dying like that, re-appearing and then Team Free Will having to save the world again had been enough at the time, but all together it was too much, too suffocating and Dean had decided he wanted the Apple Pie life. For real this time. That didn't mean Lisa and Ben, God, Lisa and Ben, had been a practise run or anything but Sam had been dead and in hell and he was half out of his head with grief and drunk and having nightmares most of the time anyway. One morning he'd just had enough, he'd written Sam a note, told him to contact Garth if anything serious went down – not like Dean wouldn't know anyway – the boys were just programmed like that and gotten the hell out of dodge.

 

And he missed Sam, he missed Sam like crazy but his little brother had lost his soul, lied about it and then – Dean knew that they both wanted the Apple Pie life but he also knew, deep in his gut, that they couldn't have it together. They were magnetic to monsters and all that other End of the World crap when they were together. He'd explained all this in the note and said he was sorry and just needed time. Garth, true to his word, must not have given Sam the number of Dean's new, secret, forever charged cell phone, because nothing truly life or indeed world threatening had gone down yet. He still spoke to Garth, got a hunt, usually local, some weekends if he felt like it. And now, now he had friends and a girl he loved and he hadn't had that since Cassie, a lifetime ago and it was Sam's birthday. Dean felt guilty as hell that he hadn't contacted Sam and he knew he should but he'd had to settle in, in California, in Priestly's persona and he's not sure he can go through that. He'll call Garth and tell him to get a message to Sam to say that's he's doing well and he's happy and happy birthday. That they'll meet up soon. Far away from California and his life here. Dean will have to get Baby out of the garage he bought to keep her in. She used to be in his old apartment's garage but he didn't want Tish seeing his car, so he'd bought the other space down town.

 

Later, Dean shrugs on his chocolate brown leather jacket over a white t-shirt – and he's always wondered why Tish never questioned that his sudden wardrobe change was so easy, though he really did go to Banana Republic that day, something he knows Sammy will never let him forget should he ever hear about it. He actually had two wardrobes really, Priestly's and his own, and now he mixes and matches. Except Tish burned the kilt. He locks the door and takes Tish's hand to head to work. He's a bit jumpy ever since he went back to the Classic Dean Winchester look but he reasons they're in California, somewhere he's pretty sure Sam will never go of his own volition, what with poor, sweet, Smurf loving Jess' grave being in Palo Alto. Speaking of graves, he has one to violate tonight, an average salt and burn, Pepper McClaren, a jilted witch whose love of experimentation and desire for revenge had gone a bit too far. Dean already knows where the grave is, he just has to dig her up, salt the earth and light 'em up. Work is long and slow even with Tish and the others and then he struggles to shake Tish off at 8.30pm when he tells her he's going for a drink with the guys

“What guys?”

“Just the guys, y'know, same as usual. I'll be back by 10, I promise” then he kisses her, hot, languid and loving before leaving her at the door of the apartment something Dean has always done, without fail, is seeing Tish to the door, ever since the Tad incident, who, if Trucker hadn't come along when he did, Dean is pretty sure he would have broken the age old Winchester rule of 'we don't kill humans' for. Of course there are no guys that Priestly goes surfing and drinking with but it's the excuse he uses whenever he wanted to hook up or hunt and it serves him well.

 

When Dean eventually makes it to the graveyard it's a little after 9pm, dark already thankfully, but he's not worried about anyone seeing him, it's out of town and there are no houses, even the caretaker's not here any more. But when Dean is only two rows away from Pepper's grave he can definitely hear someone moving around, the familiar scrape of a shovel and whispered curses, followed a few minutes by the heavy trickling of salt into the hole. _Another hunter?_ Dean only knows of two permanent hunters close to his own patch but he knows for a fact Leo's laid up with a broken leg about two hours away from where he got the shit beaten out of him by a revenant and this sounds like another guy rather than Annie. Must be a nomad, passing through, but he'd better check in case it's not actually a hunter or even Pepper's grave. Whilst Dean is considering all of this, there's a scratch and a flicker of light, before the grave – and it is Pepper's, thank God, goes up as a pool of flame, illuminating the other person in front of him. And it is, indeed a guy. But it's not Leo or even another nomad.

 

It's Sam.

 

Sam standing so close he can see the tired frown on his face as Dean's little brother strips off his jacket and drapes it over the shovel stuck in the small, loamy mound of earth beside the grave. All of a sudden Dean fills sick to his stomach at seeing Sam in a graveyard in California on his birthday. He can't do this now, here. Because he knows Sam will probably be angry or upset that he took off like he did, just like Dean always was when Sam did it. Sam will want answers or to hit Dean or both. Most likely both. He'll call Garth tomorrow, or even Sam himself, but right this second all he wants is to be home curled round Tish with Chinese food and one of her stupid rom-com's that he only ever watches under duress or occasionally the promise of sex.

But mainly duress.

 

Slow and silent, Dean begins to manoeuvre himself backwards, so he can get back to his life as Boaz, Christ, _Boaz_ he winces for the hundredth time at his choice of name, Priestly. Only Fate, that blonde bitch, has other plans for him. As Dean turns, he doesn't quite catch the urn of flowers, he has somehow knocked – again, Fate, the Bitch. - balanced on top of someone's impressive square headstone and it smashes loudly upon impact with the marble base. Dean's head whips round to Sam at the noise, and yes, he's heard it, _hell how could he not,_ and yes he's seen Dean. Sam's head has snapped up and he's staring at Dean, like he's seeing another ghost. Their eyes lock across the graveyard for a second before “Dean?” and then Dean's off, tearing through the tombs with Sam's “DEAN!” booming shout at his heels. Sam's after him, but Dean was always faster despite his bow-legs and he's kept himself fit as Priestly. Dean's not quite sure at what point he loses Sam, he only knows that like the coward he is, he's never been happier to get behind his front door, lock the house down for the night and find Tish watching _What's Your Number?_ for what must be the 200 th time, if the fact that Dean knows it by name is any indication. Both Tish and Dean have agreed that 20 lovers is low, so low that Dean had nearly died of laughter, until the next day when Tish's topic of the day had been a beautiful argument about the fact that men could have over 300 lovers or something whilst women were held to different standards most of the time, “Good job I'm not going anywhere” he'd said after agreeing with her.

 

 

“Priestly? Sweetie?” she stood up looking at him with loving concern.

“Tish” he breathed, moving to wrap her into his arms, inhaling that indescribable mixture of fruity shampoo and her perfume, grounding himself back into Boaz. He had honestly thought about telling them all his real name, but Dad's training about never breaking character was too deeply ingrained.

 

 

“What is it?” she asked Priestly's shoulder. He was holding her tight, looking internally terrified as he'd charged through the door.

“Nothing, honey, not a damn thing. I'm just really glad to see you”

“Mmmph, I call bullshit. Come on, Boaz, tell me” she asked softly. To her surprise he ducked his head away before kissing her forehead. “It's nothing, really” He was lying and she knew it, but he'd tell her what was bothering him tommorrow and not before. Priestly was clearly spooked over something so Tish figured she'd let him calm down before she brought out 20 Questions.

“Okay then.” her fingers found their way under his t-shirt. “I was waiting for you. Come to bed?” Priestly smiled, swiftly getting with the programme and Tish finally felt like they were back on track since this morning, what with her boyfriend acting funny all day. Almost sad. But he was smiling now and that's what counted.

Divulging Priestly of his t-shirt, she ran her fingers up over his chest, one hand coming to rest on the pentagram as his mouth latched onto her neck. Tish groaned, toes curling into the fluffy rug beneath them. “Bed. Now” she announced.

“You planning to take advantage of me Tish?” he murmured in her ear, harking back to the conversation so long ago the day they'd first met Piper.

“You're not so easy to manipulate as I thought” she answered sweetly, cringing a little at the way she remembered Priestly looking up at his bright orange mohawk when she'd told him why women never tried it on with him. This was also the first time Dean had ever been self cock-blocked, by his own disguise no less and also the reason why he always used to hook up looking like himself, and always the next town over. Whatever else Tish was going to say is swallowed by her laughter as he scoops her up and her legs lock around his waist and then they're off into the bedroom.

 

Despite the awesome sex last night, something is wrong with Priestly the day after, Tish decides. They don't have morning sex today either and _it's not me_ , she repeats like a prayer, _he hasn't got bored of me._ But even if Priestly does love her, like Trucker and Zo say, the only thing that matters is that **he** hasn't said it, she doesn't have that surety, but then again, Tish forces herself to remember, it took him almost two years to get up the courage to ask her out, so maybe Priestly just takes time with big gestures. Tish isn't even going to consider whether she loves him, she can't go down that avenue. Her heart beats out a loud, triumphant YES every time she sees him, but Tish has spent years perfecting selective deafness. Priestly is flighty, holds her hand a smidge too tight, drives just the other side of too fast. When they get to work he appears to calm a little when he sees Trucker, kissing Zo over the counter before she goes to open her own store, ruffles sweet Julia's hair as she sits, swinging her legs in a booth with her dad and Piper, enjoying a smoothie before school. Just like every morning. Only she can see the effort behind it, to keep up the degree of normalcy when something has so clearly shaken Priestly to his core and Tish only wants to know why.

 

At lunchtime, well after the typical rush, she gets her answer. Priestly is in the back, bringing meatballs and tofu turkey in from the storage unit, Piper is slicing bread, Trucker's scrubbing a metal sauce container, Jen's taking an order via phone and Tish is idly reading as front of house when the bell tinkles. Tish looks up and does a double take. If she wasn't happily taken herself, she'd be up to her old tricks with this customer. He's tall, like _tall_ tall and muscled if his arms beneath the rolled up plaid sleeves are anything to go by. And whereas Priestly nowadays screams Bad Boy, this guy, while of a similar calibre is much more muted. He's got longish milk chocolate hair, which isn't what she normally goes for – _Priestly, you've got Priestly now_ her brain reminds her. Tish drops her book on the counter, reaching for her order pad and plucking the pen from her bun she grins “Hi there, what can I get you?”

The guy's mind is obviously on other things and he looks up sharply when she drops the book before his eyes seem to refocus into something more friendly. Poor guy looks stressed to hell. “Erm, a 10 inch, Veggie Chicken Grill and a coffee please. Large.”

“Sure” she says a little softer, in case he's just broken up with his girlfriend or got a major hangover or something. Course then, Tish's awesome customer service is somewhat ruined when Jen hangs up the phone, gives the coffee maker a cursory glance and shouts “Priestly bring through some more Insta-cure beans!” Tish flinches and sure enough so does Moose man – and yeah, maybe that's unkind but for he reminds her strongly of that particular animal.

Priestly makes a grunting assent – obviously moving boxes – as Piper begins to prep the Veggie Chicken. Moose man gives a sigh before muttering “Seriously?” up at the ceiling in his own private reprimand to God or something. He catches her looking and says “You like Carver Edlund? The _Supernatural_ books, really?” he gestures to the paperback where it lies conspicuously on the counter.

 

Tish grins conspiratorally, leaning forward, like she always does when making a sale to any male customer. It's a tried and tested method, the Madison Manoeuvre. Patent pending. “Not really. But they really piss off my boyfriend.”

Instead of laughing, the Moose only gives a warm smile before saying 'He's not the only one' and shoving away from the counter, watching the world go by out the window.

Just then, Priestly's back, depositing ingredients as he goes to pour coffee beans into the machine. “One cup of magical elixir coming right up.” he announces to the room “Although technically speaking magical elixir is bad ju-ju” Tish smiles fondly, she'd been waiting for Priestly's usual supernatural or political comment. “Jeez Tish” he groans, spotting the offensive little book as he turns back to the counter “not those goddamn books again. When I see Chuck again I'm gunna-” whatever Priestly was going to say dies in his throat as he sees their customer, their eyes lock disbelievingly. Mooseman is gaping at Priestly, has been ever since he heard the name Chuck, whoever that is, or maybe since he started speaking, she's not sure, whilst Priestly's gone white as a ghost.

 

“Dean?” asks Mooseman, stepping closer, “Dean?”

“Oh, shit” is all Priestly manages before he's up and over the counter, like frigging Batman or something, heading for the door. He doesn't quite make it before the other guy blocks his path. Jen goes to protest and Trucker perhaps to intervene before Priestly spits out, low and gruff, in a voice, Tish has never heard him use, glaring venomously “Get outta the way Sam”

“Like hell” the other – Sam retorts, making a grab for Priestly and Trucker's definitely about to intervene when Priestly shouts “ Seriously, Trucker, don't” dodging Sam and trying to get round him, make for the door.

“Dean” Sam growls “I just -” he dodges a punch – and they really are throwing themselves around now “wanna talk to you”

“Priestly what the hell is-” Tish starts and as her boyfriend turns, she catches sight of his face and the confident bravado is all gone, as is the new, scary, hardened fighter and all of a sudden he's that lost little boy all dressed up in his Sunday best, asking her out again. Then one of Sam's more violent swings finds it's mark, or maybe from the look on his face goes awry and Priestly crumples before her eyes.

 

 

Dean's head hurts but he's not sure why. He's also resting on something warm and soft that smells like Tish's perfume. Maybe they're still in bed? No, there are voices arguing loudly above his head. Maybe it's the news? But they never watch the news in bed, especially not in the morning. And since when did the newsreaders argue about him? Well, recently anyway, since the Winchesters are still dead or whatever.

“His name is Priestly and he's my boyfriend”

“Look, I appreciate what you're doing here but his name is Dean Winchester and he's my _brother._ ” comes Sam's voice. Sam's voice and Tish's scent have never been together before.

“His name is Boaz as far as we know” Wait, Trucker? Oh. Oh crap. It's coming back to him.

“False identity” Sam explains with patient bluntness.

“What? Why?”

“It's...complicated. He'll explain all this when he wakes up, which should be pretty soon. I didn't hit him that hard”

“Why did you hit him?” asks Jen from further away. Figures she'd be scared enough to keep her distance from Sam.

“Cos he's a stubborn dick. And if he started to run, I'd never catch him. And I can't let him-”

Dean decides it's time to make his grand entrance. He groans, almost theatrically and opens his eyes.

“Baby?” Tish murmurs softly, her reddish hair tickling his face as she leans over Dean in protective concern from where his head is pillowed in her lap

“S'okay, Tish. M'fine.”

 

Her mahogany eyes met his emerald ones for a moment, as if she were deciding something and then Dean saw them harden just a little. _Shit._

“Okay then.” and she moved abruptly so that his head thunked painfully against the seat of the booth “Mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

Dean swallowed and his eyes found Sam, who, mercifully, despite looking just as pissed as Tish did, was keeping his silence. He looked back to Tish and then the others before saying “Of course. Just, not here okay, sweetheart. Okay Sam?”

Both nodded tensely and though the others looked they were about to protest, Trucker, God bless him, simply said “You'll come back once you got this all hashed out won't you?”

“Course Trucker” Tish replied with that soft affection he always drew out of his girls, whilst Dean, who looked at Trucker like another father and didn't trust himself to speak, could only nod. He reached for Tish's hand and tried to school his features not to show the hurt he felt as she rejected him and brushed past the brothers for the door, but he could tell that Trucker and of course Sam would be able to see it.

“Wait? Where are we going?” asked Sam gruffly. Dean could understand his hesitation at leaving the Grill, a public place, particularly one where he knew Dean had connections, friends, where he could find him again – or places he might visit in case Dean bolted for it. But Dean wasn't going to leave Tish. Not now. Not ever if he could help it. “Me and Tish live together. Wanna follow us there?” he asked, but it was something of a tease, since he knew what Sam's answer was going to be.

“I'd rather ride with you if that's alright” the younger Winchester answered tightly.

Dean slapped open the door, rolling his eyes as he went despite everything “Course, little brother”

 

The ride to their apartment was tense to say the least. Sam crammed his long limbs into the back of Priestly's car, which Dean was grateful for because he hoped it leant Tish the illusion of normalcy for the twenty minutes it would take, not including traffic and Dean breaking the speed limit, to get back home. Also, not having Sammy in the front seat meant not having any painful memories from the countless times Sam had rode shotgun in their lives.

Nobody spoke. They made it to the loft in just under fifteen minutes.

 

In fact, the two most important people in Dean's life waited until the three of them were safely ensconced behind the apartment door before the floodgates opened.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam barked, making Tish jump. The elder Winchester ignored him, instead steering his slightly shell shocked girlfriend towards the living room with a well meaning hand in the small of her back and a question of whether Dean could get his little brother anything thrown over his shoulder.

“Yeah how bout some honest answers for once?” Sam shot back and when Dean turned to face him it was to find that Tish, from her new position on the sofa was nodding too.

With a deep sigh, Dean headed towards one of easy chairs between the sofa and the Lazee Boy muttering 'okay, okay'.

 

Once Sam had established that Dean was actually going to go through with this – as well as subtly, well Dean caught it, but they both doubted Tish had, locking the front door behind them, taken the Lazee boy and leaned forward, elbows pressing into his thighs in his best I-care-about-you-and-I'm-going-to-listen-like-a-good-brother/agent pose. _Kid shoulda have been a damn guidance counsellor or something,_ Dean thought idly.

 

“Okay. Well, Tish, meet my brother Sam Winchester. Sammy this is my girlfriend, Tish Madison”

Sam nodded politely at Tish in acknowledgement though gave Dean a look filled with tender surprise that he had a girlfriend. Tish on the other hand....

“You never said you have a brother. Or that you know, you're name isn't in fact Boaz Priestly”

Sam winced. Dean was right behind him.

“I know hon- Tish, I know. I never thought you two'd meet though. And if I had said I had a brother wouldn't you have wanted to meet him?”

“Of course I would. I always wanted to meet your family Or y'know your parents if they weren't dead. Or is that a lie too?” she spat before either man could stop her. “Jesus Pri- _Dean_ was this all some kind of game to you or something?”

“No!” Dean very nearly shouted. “No” he repeated at a lower decibel. “Our parents really are dead. My mom died in a fire like I told you. And my dad died after a car accident a few years ago.”

Sam discreetly raised his eyebrows that if Dean was as in love with Tish as he appeared to be he hadn't told her the big family secret about what they did, like he did with Cassie.

Dean responded in kind by tilting his head slowly one way and then the other. An almost unnoticeable shake of the head, part of the Winchester brothers code from when they were children and Sam realised that Dean was so in love with Tish, like Sam himself had been with Jess, that he had understood why Sam himself had lied and had spent however long lying to this chick.

 

Sam took a moment to look at Tish properly. She was beautiful, though not really his type truth be told and stylish too. And despite the fact that her eyes were hard and she was frowning just a little right now, back at the sandwich shop she'd seemed fiesty and funny and called him out on his crap. In other words perfect for Dean. He'd even thought that while they were chatting. And from the way she was looking at his brother, even with the concern there, and the fear, he could see how much she loved Dean by the way she leaned towards him, the inclination of her head to catch his every word, the way her hand extended across the empty space of the chair arms, though she wasn't closing the distance and taking Dean's hand.

 

And now for Dean. Ignoring the fact that at the moment, every time Sam looked at his elder brother he was both a mixture of relieved and a strong desire to punch Dean again, Sam could see that Dean was definitely in love with Tish. Like _in love_ in love with her. Well and truly gone on this girl. Which, holy shit, was amazing but also terrifying. Because what if Dean chose Tish over him? After all, he'd already left once?

 

Sam suddenly sees that Dean's mouth is still moving, only he hasn't been paying as strict attention to what's being said.

“-and with dangerous jobs like we have – like _I had –_ I couldn't risk using my real name, just in case some of the more wacky cases we used to deal with came looking, see. Isn't that right Sam?”

 

Oh. Crap. Dean hasn't just done the big reveal and told Tish their big family secret, that they do what they do and they shut up about and Sam missed it, has he? Is Dean talking about some of the more vengeful witches, whom he knows from experience, they have on occasion regretted a previous leniency?

 

“Uh. Yeah.”he stutters, trying to look convincing and frowning back at Dean when he gave Sam a sharp look.

 

“Well why couldn't you have told me your real _first_ name at least?” Tish insists, getting upset for some reason that Sam can't understand.

 

But Dean does.

 

“I'm sorry, baby” he mutters, unable to look at her. “I was – would you believe me if I said I was uh – scared.”

 

“Don't you 'baby' me, baby. You couldn't have said you were Dean Priestly instead of spouting that Boaz crap and getting me to tell you-” her eyes slid to Sam, as if she's weighing up the options of mentioning her full name to a guy she's just met, but then obviously decides to go for it when she hisses “ _Platisha”_

Dean sees Sam's eyebrows ascend into his hairline. Damn him. He's about to go into further detail, or ask Sam to go make them some coffee so Dean can privately explain to his girlfriend about all the shit he and Sam have gone through together and to some extent have done to each other when Tish surprises them both and pushes off the sofa, spitting “You know what? Screw this.” and stalking off to the bedroom.

 

Leaving Dean where he didn't really want to be right now. Alone with his little brother.


End file.
